


In Which All Q Wants To Do is Go Home

by frenchpi



Category: James Bond (Movies), Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M is alive because I said so, Mentions of Mallory, More and more minor OCs, Q Branch Workers, Sherlock References, Sherlock doesn't come up until the far later chapters, The members of MI6 are BAMFs, This is becoming more and more pre-slash as I write it, Which was not originally intended
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:17:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenchpi/pseuds/frenchpi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which all Q wants to do after a long day (or rather, a few long days) at work, is to go home.<br/></p>
<p>Unfortunately, the universe is against this idea.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Circadian Rhythm and Mission Complications

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed and unbritpicked. Also, I've never posted a fic before. So we'll see how it goes.

Q liked his sweater. It was warm and fuzzy and made a good pillow if he fell asleep at his desk.

Like today.

“Q,” Someone said from far away.

Q opened his eyes. He couldn’t see anything, but maybe that was because his glasses were off. Q, as he put it, couldn’t very well see shit without his glasses.

The same someone put the glasses in his (incredibly limited) clear view. He put them on.

“007,” he acknowledged blearily. His brain was still a bit fogged up from sleep. “Did you need something?”

“I’m going to Warsaw. Or do you not remember?” Bond asked, one eyebrow lifted.

“Pardon me, but I was up for forty hours straight – yesterday, and the day before, was it? – Yes, that’s right.” He added as he looked at his computer’s date mark. “Only been asleep for four hours.” He grumbled quietly to himself.

“You have a desk job and still have an either non-existent or horrid circadian rhythm.”

“I’m a law unto myself.” Q muttered as he led Bond to the armoury, swiping their ID cards for the door.

“Incidentally, what were you doing for such a long time?” He certainly didn’t need that long to hack a system, both he and Bond knew.

“This,” Q replied simply and passed him his new gun, which they both knew would probably not be returned. “Essentially, the same as last time’s, except I basically had to get it built from scratch.”

“That shouldn’t have taken that long.” Said Bond, examining his already-doomed gun.

“No, it shouldn’t have, except imagine that started at hour one and I was busy until I could get it done, somewhere at the end of hour thirty-nine. I swear the entire Q division is incompetent.” Q handed him some other things; radio, com set, etc.

“Excluding you, of course.”

“Of course,” Q said. “Now, don’t get yourself killed. And at least try and bring that back?”

“Oh, I always try.” Said Bond with an amused look.

“No, you don’t.” Said Q wearily.

“No, I don’t,” echoed Bond, and then seemed to disappear into the shadows.

“I need caffeine.” Q said to the now-empty hallway. It didn’t answer, which was good, because then he’d need a pych eval, too. Fortunately, after Q got his coffee, he didn’t feel the need to pass out as much.

“Sir,” said one of the other Q branch workers.

“Yes?” he asked, not looking up from his ever-present computer.

“Miss Moneypenny wants to know if you finished what M wanted.”

“Yes, yes, I sent it to her. Didn’t I?” He checked his sent emails. Alright, maybe he still was pretty tired. “Right, I’ll just do that now,” he said, and sent it.

“Are you alright, Q?” The worker asked.

Q actually did look up this time. It was George.

“I’m fine.” Said Q tetchily.

“If you say so,” said George as he returned to his computer station.

Q sighed. It was only 9 o’clock in the morning and he was already pissed off as hell and tired. Today is going to be awful, thought. No, never mind that, it already is hell.

There was a yell as something one of the interns had been making created a small explosion as he tried to demonstrate it to one of the female workers. Q didn’t even look up as George handed said intern a fire extinguisher. The intern hosed down the fire, cleaned up his mess, and sat back at his desk, not meeting anyone’s eyes.  
However, Q did deign to say, “Please demonstrate your pet projects in the safety of the lab from now on, Andrew.”

“Yes, sir,” said Andrew quietly.

Q smashed a few lines of code into his computer in a most ungraceful way.

At 10 o’clock, Q filed paperwork and drank a cup of tea.

At 11 o’clock, Q completed a security program he had been working on.

At 12 o’clock, Q had installed said program in the higher-ups computers.

At 1 o’clock, Q fell asleep. Unfortunately, he was quickly woken by someone who walked by his desk.

At 2 o’clock, Q had Bond check in.

“Bond,” He said into his microphone.

“Right here, Q.” Bond’s drawl echoed through the room.

“See anything yet?” asked Q, looking at the security film playing on the main screen.

“Welkins is in sight, but Farleigh isn’t here yet.”

“Alright,” said Q. “Then in that case, I need you to try to drop a bug on Welkins; it’ll be easier if you go for them one at a time.”

“Yes, sir.” Said 007 sarcastically.

“Shut it and drop the bug, Bond.” Q replied in a weary tone.

Many of the interns were watching/listening to their first ‘Bond Experience’. It was always amusing to watch them gape in astonishment but today Q was in no state to watch.

“Oh, look, there’s Farleigh.” Muttered Q.

“So it is,” said Bond, moving away from Welkins, upon whom he’d just dropped the bug.

Bond dropped another bug on Farleigh as he walked past him.

“Nicely done.” Said Q appraisingly.

“I thought so.”

“This is different from your usual work. You usually just go out and shoot people.”

“I try to get information. And I don’t always shoot the target.”

“Oh, pardon me. There are far more creative ways of killing someone than simply shooting someone.”

“Exactly.”

They always spoke to each other through the comms this way. Then Bond would kill someone and run like hell, Q giving him directions and fixing traffic lights and creating problems in his wake to throw off the latest person out to kill 007.

“Now go back to your hotel room and wait for your date tonight, Bond.” Q said, rolling his eyes.

“See you tomorrow morning after the flight, Q.” Bond put emphasis on the word 'flight' as he walked casually out of the restaurant as well as the camera's field of view.

“Shut up, 007.”

“Why don’t-.” Bond started. However, he was interrupted by the sound of gunfire in the background.

“Shit!” Bond swore.

“Sit rep, now!” Q barked. Cameras didn’t cover this area, of course they didn’t. Goddamn it.

“Welkins just shot Farleigh. Looks like the deals off.”

Q snapped his fingers at a minion. “Get emergency backup for Bond, right away.”

“Yes, sir!” the minion replied. Q didn’t have time to see who it was; he was busy. The minion gave him the rendezvous point. Q nodded.

“Welkins is waving the gun around and yelling for everyone to get down, clear the exits, no one gets hurt. Etc, etc. I’m waiting in the exit.”

“That information was important. Bugger.” Q said.

“Want me to bring in Welkins?”

“I want you to bring in him, not his body. Got that?” Q opened the camera feeds as Bond and Welkins moved back into the field of view again. A grainy figure (Welkins) waved the gun around on the screen. Suddenly, Bond’s on-screen figure jumped glitchily at Welkins. Bloody cameras, they were awful. Welkins, who had been pointing the gun at the ceiling, the amateur, got tackled by Bond. Bond grabbed the gun, stood and pointed it at Welkins.

Q leaned back in his chair, keyboard in his lap. Bond, for once, hadn’t actually shot anyone on the mission so far. Oh, wait, Welkins’ muscle showed up. Bond put a bullet in the bodyguard’s forehead. “Move out any time you’re ready, 007.” Q said pointedly.

“I’ll take my own damned time if I want to.” Bond knocked Welkins out with the butt of the gun, picked him up and carried him off the screen.

“Well, the rendezvous point is two blocks north and one to the west. Your emergency backup will meet you there and escort you to the airport.”

“I don’t need an escort, Q.” Q wondered what it must have looked like for the citizens of Warsaw. An angry looking English man was running through the streets, carrying an unconscious man and talking to an invisible person.

“If I say you’re getting an escort, you get a goddamn escort, 007. Now stop being an infant and get to the bloody airport.” Q snarled.

“Touchy today, are we?” Q could hear his smirk.

Q hit his head against the table. “Can I resign, please?”

There was a minute of silence before Bond finally replied. “No, I can’t lose my Quartermaster. Oh, at the checkpoint now. We’re moving towards the airport now.”

“Unless something that could kill you shows up, I’m demanding radio silence until you get on the plane.”

“Whatever you say, Q.”

Q kept his head against the table. One of the Q branch workers placed a pot of Earl Grey near his head then scuttled away. If I could bring myself to lift my head and see who you were, I’d give you a raise. Q thought. He blearily poured the tea into his Q mug and drank. His vision was a bit fuzzy, but he didn’t need to see the keyboard to type.

After an indeterminate haze of time, Bond’s voice came back on the comms, “I’m on the plane.”

“Fantastic. Goodbye.”

“I’ll be back soon with Welkins.”

Q turned off the comms. While in his stupor, the minions had returned to work. I’m definitely going home now.

The plan was to stand, drag himself out of the room and get on the Underground. Sadly, Eve entered the room before he could make his sluggish departure. “Q, I need you to do this paperwork. For tomorrow.”

“I’m calling in sick tomorrow.” Q walked slowly past Eve.

“It’s important, Q.”

“I’m going home. Goodbye.” She followed him out of Q branch.

“Q, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” she inquired. She looked perfectly put together, clacking along in her heels and tailored suit.

He nodded. “Did you sleep here again?” she continued.

“Yes. For four hours in the last forty. I’m going home to sleep for the next two days.”

“Your cat’s probably getting lonely again.” Eve replied, amused.

“Yes, I hope he’s eaten. If he starved, I’d feel a bit bad.”

“Understandable. I was just leaving; do you get a cab or take the Underground?”

“Underground, usually.”

“So do I, so wait a moment and I’ll get my coat.” Q stood outside Eve’s office.

“Oh, hello, Q.” Tanner said as he passed him. Q made an undignified grunting noise in response. “Waiting for Eve?”

He nodded.

“I’ll wait; I usually take the Tube with her.” When Eve reappeared, they took off, pushing their way through the crowded streets and train stops.

“How was work today, Tanner?” Eve inquired.

“A bloody nightmare,” he grimaced. “I started the staff census today.”

Q and Eve both made faces. Tanner had to go and check everyone’s records and see if they were behind on their files.

“Mallory was in mood today.” Eve sighed as they got on the train. They all squashed in to fit on the car. “He asked me to do everything twice as fast. And yourself, Q?”

“I’ve had four hours of sleep in the forty. And Bond decided that he’d be a complete prick while in Warsaw.”

“Is he ever not a complete prick?” asked Eve, amused.

“No,” replied Tanner. “Believe me, I’ve known him longer than both of you. He’s always been like this, and probably always will be.”

“Fantastic,” sighed Q. “I’ll be stuck with him until he dies.”

“Or retires,” Eve commented. “But probably dies.”

Because really, it’s the truth. Most 00 agents die before they hit thirty five. Bond has lived a long time for someone in his field.

“Or when I die.”

“He’ll die before you.” Said Tanner.

“Not if he kills me first.” Q retorted.

“You realize that we’re discussing you’re deaths?” Eve asked. “I’m worried for our mental health.”

“It’s late,” said Q. “I mean, it’s only six in the afternoon, but it feels like it’s early in the morning, even though I don’t get tired until mid afternoon when I’ve gotten up  
at a regular time the day before. However, from a normal person’s point of view-.”

“Q. Shut up.”

“Alright.”

“I wonder what-.” Tanner started.

He was cut off by an explosion.


	2. Inconvenient Explosions and Irritating Civilians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stupid Tube exploding. Why couldn't it wait for later?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is ridiculous.  
> So yes, I haven't updated in a really, really long time. Unbeta'd and unbritpicked. Sorry it's such a sad chapter for such a long wait.  
> And, hey, I did not expect a good response to my story! Thank you all!

The train rocked and lurched into a stop, the lights emergency lights coming on. Civilians screamed and grabbed fell to the ground.

Eve, Tanner and Q all stood, drawing their guns. The floor might be unsteady, but honestly, they were secret agents. Even if Tanner was never a field agent, Eve was now a secretary and Q was R&D, one couldn’t simply get into MI6 without a little bit of practical training. Now was not the moment for them to be bitching about their jobs. They had to do something.

“Everyone stay calm!” Tanner yelled. The crowd screamed even more when they saw the guns.

“What do you want from us?” a terrified looking man asked. “There’s no need for guns.”

“Quiet!” barked Eve. Fortunately, they all shut up. “We’re MI6. We can help you get out of this, so long as remain calm. Now, is anyone injured?”

There was a chorus of ‘No’s.

“I still don’t believe you,” said the same terrified (as well as a bit brave, and stupid) man from before.

“Look,” said Q. “We all have our identification.” They showed it to the group. “Now, do you want to wait here for a rescue crew to dig us out or do you want to get out as soon as possible?”

“I’m claustrophobic,” one woman whispered. Many others nodded.

“Alright, stay quiet. We’re going to try and contact someone and we’ll be out soon.”

Q dialled the number for Anna, one of the most competent Q branch workers. “Anna Jones.” She picked up on the second ring.

“Anna, it’s Q. The explosion in the Tube, where’s the nearest station to where the train stopped?”

“Q, are you on the train?” The sound of her typing came faintly from the background.

“Possibly,” he said. “Miss Moneypenny and Tanner are here with me. As well as a few dozen civilians.”

“Hold up a second,” In the background: “Hey, Michael! Get the news on; part of the Tube blew up.

“Ah... The train stopped at about a half-kilometre from the next stop. Which I also found is not destroyed, so there should be a way out.”

“Thank you, Anna.”

“Are you able to get out?” she inquired.

“I’m not sure... If I need more help, I’ll call.”

“Be careful, Q. Don’t get squashed by falling debris.” Anna also had a very dry sense of humor.

“I’ll remember that.” Q hung up.

“Well?” asked Tanner.

“If we can get out, the next station, about a half-kilometre that way,” Q pointed accordingly, “We should be able to get out. Assuming Anna’s right, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Right,” said Eve to the crowd. “We will be going out this door, which will pry open. Then, hopefully the path will be clear enough for us to get to next stop.”

“Let’s move.” Tanner moved to the door. “Help me with this, Q?”

“I’ll do it.” Eve sighed. “Q probably couldn’t open the door if his life depended on it.”

“I’m not entirely incompetent, Eve.” Still, Q decided it would be for the best if Eve did it.

The two agents prised open the doors. “Follow us.” Q hopped off the edge of the train car.

“Terrorist attack?” Eve asked the other two quietly.

“On the Underground?” Tanner said. “I very much doubt it.”

“However, we shouldn’t rule it out. It could be targeting someone, planning stuff like this can take as few as three days.” Q, ever the braniac, replied.  
“So maybe someone on the train...”

“Is everyone here?” asked Tanner. “Good. We’re moving this way.”

“There’s a bit of a hole over here.” Q inspected the debris surrounding him. There was rubble everywhere, blocking parts of the tunnel. Luckily, there was a (relatively) clear path through the destroyed tunnel. He poked at the rocks. They seemed relatively stable. Alright, so not getting crushed by rocks that way was good.

“Right...” Eve inspected the hole. “This seems passable. Now, all of you,” She called to the group. “Follow us, and be careful. Make sure that the rocks you step on are stable. If you need help, speak up, please.”

Tanner shifted the rocks to make the hole bigger. There was a crash and dust poured from the hole. “This way,” he said, and climbed through it. Q followed and Eve herded the Underground passengers through. They were now in a slightly less ruined section of the Tube’s tunnel. Tanner continued down to head to the other end of the tunnel, brushing the dust of his suit. Q caught Eve rolling her eyes at Tanners antics.

A man stumbled over a stay rock with a sharp cry. Honestly, what part of ‘be careful’ did you miss? Q wondered. “My ankle!” he said. “I think it’s broken!”

Dear lord, thought Q. The other two were obviously thinking the same thing.

“Alright, calm down.” Eve somehow managed to squat next to him while still looking dignified. “Let me look at it.”  
She poked at it, using her I-used-to-be-a-field-agent knowledge of broken bones to see whether it was broken or merely sprained.

“Sprain,” she declared. “Can you hop, or do you need help?”

“I don’t think I can,” the commuter moaned.

“I volunteer Tanner,” muttered Q. Eve glared at him. “What? Like you said, I’m not as strong as either of you. I’m just the lab geek.”

Tanner sighed. “Fine, fine, I’ll do it. Let’s just get out of here.”

“What, not enjoying the lovely atmosphere of post-explosion Underground tunnels?” smirked Eve.

“I’m not going to bother giving a response to that.” Tanner picked the man up in a fireman’s carry and the man fainted. “Fantastic.” Tanner said.

“All I ever wanted from the day was to go home from work.” said Q, foraging ahead in the tunnel. Eve snorted.

“MI6 is a lifestyle, not a job, Q. It’ll follow you wherever you go.”

“Yes, I’d figured that out by now.” The adrenaline was starting to wear off. Well, shit. But, on the bright side, he could see some light! “Oh, look, it’s the next platform.”

“Look!” screamed one of the crowd members. “The platform.”

“That is what I just said.” Commented Q, but it went unheard as the group stampeded past him. “They’re desperate.”

“Wouldn’t you be if you were a civilian?” panted Tanner, catching up with them. No need to watch the back of the group now that they’d sprinted for safety.

“No,” answered Q truthfully. “I’d be wondering what caused it.”

“And that’s why you’re Q, and I’m not.” Eve hopped up onto the platform, pulling Q with her.

“Yes, nice of you to help,” Q grunted as Eve tried to wrench his arm out of its socket. “I’m fine though, thank you.”

Tanner dumped the unconscious man unceremoniously on the platform then jumped up himself. The three of them (plus said unconscious man) turned and walked up the stairs.

(To be immediately swarmed by what seemed to be the entirety of Scotland Yard)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments?
> 
> Hopefully I will see you soon, readers (doubt it)!


	3. Unwanted Paramedics and Lying Coworkers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q knows he's fine and it's quite obvious what happened here. The only way he could know more about the situation would be if he caused it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for lateness, and I'm sorry to say that I am not British, therefore I have no knowledge of the Underground (which is why I am so vague). Important message at the bottom, please read.

Oh God, thought Q. Bloody police.

Scotland Yard had blocked off the area. Londoners and tourists alike stood at the police line, arguing with the police. About what they would be arguing about, Q had no idea. Part of the Tube exploded. End of story.

He wasn’t exactly in a fantastic mood. After all, his only plans had been to go home and sleep, for God’s sake. If he were Bond, he mused, he would simply push past the police with that don’t-touch-me-or-I-shall-kill-you-in-a-way-you’d-never-like-to-imagine expression. Sadly, he was Q. Not that he’d like to be Bond. 007 lacked certain finesse in the way he operated, had a lack of even a hint the computer skills that made Q so sought after before he had even finished university.

Also, Bond was a complete arse.

Q, Eve and Tanner stood just outside the Tube exit. A couple of paramedics lunged at them as though they were celebrities and dragged them over to the  
ambulances.

“Can you tell us about the incident?”

“Can you tell us what your name is?”

“Sir, are you hurt?”

“Did anything land on you when the explosion occurred?”

“I’m going to put this shock blanket on you,”

“Could you stop asking me questions for one damned second?” demanded Q. The paramedics were silent immediately. “All I want to do is go back to my flat. Christ.”

The outburst probably made them think he was in shock, but really. He was not in shock, thank you. He was tired.

“We need to give you a basic check over, to make sure that you’re fine.” One man explained, putting on his disposable rubber gloves.

“Just wait a few moments, Q.” Eve said, sighing. “You’ll be able to leave in a minute.”

“After we get checked over, and after we give our statements and after we finally get free from the mess.” He gestured towards the mass of people.

“Just sit down, Q.” Said Tanner. Q obliged, although it was a certain air of grumpiness.

“I’ll destroy someone’s life if they delay me too much.”

“Don’t,” said the other two in unison.

“You don’t want to lose your job, Q.” Eve reprimanded.

“Excuse me, but if we could get started?” asked the medic somewhat nervously.

“He won’t really destroy your life,” Eve reassured. “I promise.”

“You promise,” muttered Q. “Not me.” Tanner glared at him.

“Don’t make me call M.”

“I’m not a child,” said Q testily.

“You’re acting like one.” Said Tanner as he and Eve were taken away to other examiners.

“I need to check you over. First, can you tell me your name, what happened and where you are?”

“My name is Q, the Tube evidently blew up and we’re just outside one of the stations in Westminster.”

“I need your real name, sir.” The man said, still seeming afraid.

“I can’t give it to you. That’s classified.” He responded shortly.

“Classi-?” he began.

“Here,” Q showed him his MI6 identification. “Classified. Also, I know when I have a concussion. And I do not. Nor am I injured, nor am I in shock, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to leave.” He stood and glared at the medic. The glare worked, because the medic looked sufficiently cowed. He said that Q was clear and to go give his statement, then scurried off.

Next, a spare police officer asked him for his statement. Again, Q had to show his ID and say that, no, he did not have a name other than Q, nor could he give a name other than Q. “-Then my coworkers and I lead the other civilians down to the exit. We exited through this station.”

The police officer thanked him for his “quick thinking actions”. Q couldn’t care less, and was sorely tempted to tell her so. That most likely would not help his situation. So he replied with a simple, thank you, sergeant, and tried to find Tanner and Eve. He spotted DI Lestrade and wondered vaguely if his brother was around.  
In any case, he wouldn’t like to deal with him now. Not that he disliked his brother, per se, but he was always hard to deal with. Especially when Q felt practically brain dead. 

Ah, speak of the devil, Q thought. There he is. It was, in fact, his elder brother, speaking to Lestrade. He found Eve and waited for her to finish speaking to an officer. She turned to him, elegant even though covered in dust from the blast, and asked him, “Ready to go back to the office?”

Oh, you have got to be kidding me, thought Q. “So long as we leave quickly.” Let’s not have him notice me.

“Right, let’s get a move on,” Tanner joined them. “We need to figure out if this was a target or not.”

“You two are both horrible liars,” grumbled MI6’s youngest Quartermaster. The other two paused.

“Me? Never!” exclaimed Eve. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent liar.”

Tanner chuckled, “The faster we get there, the faster you get home.”

“I hate you both. You said I could go home.” he replied, and flagged down a cab. They climbed in and Q slumped in his seat. Tanner gave the directions to the driver, but Q didn’t hear. He was in a sort of sleepwalking state. The streets blurred together as he sat, staring out the window.

“Q!” he jumped. Eve was waving a hand in front of his face.

“Yes! What? Sorry, what?”

“We’re here,” she sounded amused. “I’ve told you multiple times.”

“Did you?” he asked, his mind and vision fuzzy. He crawled out of the car. The blurred vision passed gradually as the three members mounted the steps, Tanner leading, Q dragging behind. He was more exhausted than he was willing to admit. Around Eve and Tanner he would admit and grumble about how he wasn’t pleased, but now he was back in HQ. He had finally gotten (most) of the people to respect him, which had taken a lot of work. It was incredible how the sharpest minds in the country couldn’t see past his age. Honestly, if he was old and senile looking like the last Q, who was absolutely brilliant, he would be probably be the most respected man in the building. But again, Q was Q.

So he drew himself tall and walked like he would after a weekend of complete rest. That would never actually happen, but technicalities. A man could dream.

He looked around as agents of all kinds rushed towards them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not terribly fond of this chapter, but there you have it. I have no beta (that's a not so subtle hint, there).
> 
> Now, the important part: I'm sure you spotted the Bondlock, as it was pretty hard to miss. Does anyone want me to explore in that direction a bit more, or keep it simply to Skyfall? There will be more Bond in the coming chapters as well, or at least I hope. When I write, unless I plan it out really well, my ideas just sort of happen. But I will write him in more, promise.
> 
> Anyhow, tell me what you'd like, s'il te plaît?
> 
> Thank you for reading this, I never expected for this to turn out so well!


	4. Rude Words and Useful Minions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, don't the rest of the agents in MI6 have actual jobs? Fortunately, the members of Q Branch know that they have work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Still a slow writer, till no time, and still not British.

MI6 appeared to be greeting the three agents who walked in to the building. All of MI6, and that was a quite large group of people. Eve, Tanner and Q were all wearing their dirty clothes, were still covered in dust, small cuts (that had been hidden discreetly from the paramedics) and looked fairly dishevelled.

“Are you alright?” Do you honestly think we’d be let leave if not?

“What happened?” Why would I know?

“Were the attackers targeting you?” Would I even be allowed to tell you?

“What was it like, the explosion?” It was a fucking explosion, what do you think it was like?

There was a pause and Q realised he’d said the last of the rude answers he’d been saying in his head out loud. Everyone stared at him. He remembered one time that the old Q, when he’d been mentoring him, had told him, “Now, R, remember this: you are young. You are in MI6, in one of the most secret branches. People will know both of these things, and they’ll look at you, thinking, ‘He must be stuck up and rude and think he’s the best man in the agency. Look at how smug he is.’ People don’t like other people who are better than them at anything, so they’re going to judge you twice as much.”

This came rushing back to Q as everyone gawked at him for saying ‘fuck’. Really, it was just one swear word. But he still muttered, “Sorry,” as Eve dragged him away.

“M wants to talk to us.” Tanner said as Q tried to wrench his arm out of Eve’s death grip. They headed towards M’s office, the agents who hadn’t wandered off yet still staring at Q like he was from outer space. 

They entered the office, and fortunately by that time Q only had red marks on his arm, instead of Eve’s vice gripe.

“Well? Sit down.” M said as soon as they entered her office.

There were two chairs. Tanner, who had seniority, evidently got one of them. Q, who was polite when he wasn’t talking to Bond, knew that he would end up giving Eve the chair anyhow, motioned towards it for her. She hesitated, but he simply looked to M and ignored the pause.

It would be incredibly unprofessional, he thought to himself, if you were to collapse in front of your boss. So don’t you dare.

“I want to know,” M had been saying. “What the bloody hell happened. If it was targeted, you find who it was. I’ve read the initial report, there was foul play involved. You need to find out who was on the train, if they were going after the three of you, two of you, one, or at all. There were three high ranking MI6 agents at the center of the explosion. That’s far too many to be a coincidence. See if there was someone else on the train who could have been the target if it wasn’t any of you or the attacker. You will find out what happened, and report back to me as soon as you figure it out. Understood?”

By you, Q knew that M had meant him, more so than Eve and Tanner. And by him, M meant work. “Why can’t the police investigate it?” he asked.

“The police don’t have access to all the information you have.” She snapped. “Besides, they move too slow. You could already be dead by the time that they even started on the case.”

“Thank you for that lovely thought, ma’am.” Q replied. His brain-to-mouth filter had evidently stopped working. A muscle in M’s cheek twitched.

“Dismissed,” she said. “Tanner, I still want to talk to you, stay here.”

Q got up and most certainly did not run to the door. It was really more of a power walk. Eve followed behind him.

“Well, I need to head down to Q branch now.” He muttered.

Eve gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m going to stay up here and work from my computer for a bit. I’ll give you a ring if I see anything, yeah?”

He nodded and shuffled off to the elevator, stifling a yawn. “Careful, Q, you could swallow a full turkey dinner if you open your mouth any wider.” Commented the man next to him. It was Oliver, who worked in Archives. Also, a good friend.

“You’ve been watching American telly again, haven’t you?” asked Q.

“There’s this show I found called Breaking Bad and -.”

“Don’t care,” Interrupted Q. Normally, he wouldn’t have been so rude, but he’d know Oliver from before MI6. Oliver wouldn’t take offence.

“Having a bad day?”

“Stuff it, Oliver, news spreads like wildfire in MI6.”

“Alright, alright, so I know you’re having a bad day. The paramedics fix you up?”

“Don’t bloody talk to me about the damned paramedics.”

“Why ever not?”

“Piss off,” Q said, and tripped on his way out of the elevator. Oliver’s laughter followed him. A man with a suit and clipboard passed him with a look of disdain. Keep looking at me like that for all I care, I could ruin your life with a few minutes and my computer, Q thought as he paused a moment and brushed a bit of tunnel dust of his cardigan.

He found himself being pushed to the side of the suddenly busy hallway as a meeting room emptied. The woman, who had run into him glared, realised who she was looking at, then looked away and scurried on. Q wondered how long he’d been staring at nothing. It felt like no time at all, but none of the people who had been in the hallway what seemed to be seconds ago were present. He blinked to clear his eyes and moved on.

He shoved open the doors to Q Branch with more force than necessary. One day, after one time too many of hearing the doors bang open, he had fought with them for an hour armed with a toolkit. They didn’t hit the walls anymore.

The entire branch ogled at him like an animal in the zoo. “Hello.” He said wearily.

“Q! How are you?” Jay spoke first. “We’ve started on some things.”

“I’ve started on a list of people who were at the center of the explosion.” Called another.

“I’ve started reconstructing the explosion to determine how it was made and where it was placed, among other things.” Anna added, forcing a teapot into his hands.

“Right,” Q grinned. These people were working here for a reason. Sometimes they could be a bit daft, but today was not that day. Thank God. “Well, let’s move, minions! M wants to know if it was targeted on Tanner, Ms. Moneypenny, or myself. If so, she wants to know who they are and she wants us to locate them.”

He walked up to his desk and sat at the chair. “Let’s get this done as fast as possible.”

He looked down at the computer again. Clicked a few things. Looked some CCTV footage. Ran a few facial scans. He was running on autopilot and the tea that appeared to be nearing maximum solubility.

The door opened and Q heard a loud, drawling voice say, “I heard that someone tried to kill you.”

Q glanced up (after all, who else could they be talking to?) to see Bond leaning against the wall with a smirk.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Spat Q.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look, Bond has returned. Please tell me what you thought? I welcome constructive criticism.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	5. Helpful Interruptions and Annoying Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look a new deadline. Which will most likely cause Q to stay awake straight through the night, with a certain 00 agent bothering him the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never updated so fast. Wow. 
> 
> Bond returns! By the next (or next next chapter) this will be Bondlock. Hurrah!
> 
> Yet another reminder that I am not British! Nor do I have a beta.
> 
> Yes, I changed my user name.

“What are you doing here?” Q nearly snarled at Bond. Of all the people that could be in this room, of all the times, Bond was the one that Q wanted to see the least.

“Just passing time,” Bond said. Q’s harsh words didn’t seem to faze him. But then again, the man was a 00 agent; he was shot at for a living.

“Please,” Q replied. “Not now.”

“What do you mean by that, Q?” Bond sauntered up to Q’s desk at the front of the room.

The room was full of keyboard clicks, and none of the members of Q Branch needed to look at the computer to type. The head of the division could tell that they were all listening to him and Bond snarking at each other while stealing discreet look. “I know your field agent brain might find this hard to understand,” Q didn’t look up from his computer. “But kindly bugger off.”

“Oh, my apologies. I didn’t think that someone so young knew such words.” Bond smirked.

That seems to be his default setting, Q thought. Smirk, snark and shoot. “You must be getting a bit forgetful in your old age, Bond. I’m most likely older than you think, anyhow.”

He was twenty four, but Bond didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, really?” One of the field agent’s eyebrow went up. Q was finding it harder and harder to refrain from hitting him. “And how old are you?”

“You have less brain cells than I have years, if it helps.” Was there even any use pretending that he was working anymore?

The people in the room who had been around since before Bond had begun his regular visits to irritate the hell out of Q ignored them better than the newer minions. Or rather, they were better at pretending that they were ignoring them.

“Now Q, we all know that you’re brilliant, but let’s not pretend that brains are the only things that matter. I could always kill you right now if I wanted to.”

“If you killed me, your life would be a living hell.” M would kill you. Mycroft would kill you. Sherlock and Mummy would kill you. Your enemies would kill you because I wouldn’t be able to help you. Not that I care, except then you’d be in hell with me.

Because, really, they had both done far too many things considered ‘morally incorrect’ to be going anywhere else.

“If it meant not having to deal with you, I wouldn’t mind.” Bond was a right bastard, and he probably knew that.

“Nor would I,” he replied anyhow. “Perhaps death and eternal suffering would be preferable to the day ahead of me.”

“It’s seven in the evening, Q.”

“Is it really? I lost track.” He had gone back to his work, typing as though there was no tomorrow. After all, most of time that he was working that was the case.

“Yes, Q. You really ought to get better at keeping track of small details like that.”

“I’ll keep your life changing advice for future reference.” He honestly couldn’t be bothered, and by the Bond replied, he could tell too.

“It’s really more important than you’d think that you sleep. After all, you might get distracted and that may cause my death.”

“You get on perfectly fine without me.” He lied. Sod the work; it’s never going to get finished with this idiot hanging around.

Q stood and walked to the break room, Bond following. “This is an... interesting room.” He commented.

“Yes, well,” Q didn’t have an answer for that. Q Branch was known for its reclusive, I-was-picked-on-for-being-a-nerd-all-through-school employees. As a result, every space that the employees existed a while became... ‘distinctive’ would be a good word.

(There was a Doctor Who teapot, a Stargate blanket on the ugly couch, and an Aperture Science poster on the wall)

Q opened one of the cupboards and peered into its untidy depths for Earl Grey. Most geniuses were prone to being untidy, and since the borderline OCD Liam was on holiday, the room had become a bit of a wreck. Liam was forever tidying the entire Branch on his break time, which was cheerfully messed up by other Q Branch members in moments.

“You can sit on the couch, if you like.” Bond raised an eyebrow in response. To be fair, it was a rather sad looking couch.

“I’d rather stand.” He leaned against the counter.

“You do that,” Q put the kettle on and flopped on the couch. “I’m sitting.”

“So lazy. If you exercised once in a while, you wouldn’t be so-.”

“So what, 007?” Q interrupted.

“Well, if you actually did some substantial field work, you would be better at staying awake.”

“I’m a damned good shot with a gun, thank you very much.”

“But you never go out in the field.”

“I can do better on my computer, so why would I?”

“Excuses, excuses,” Bond tutted.

“Bond, shut the hell up!”

“Make me.” Forcefully.

“Well, you know what-!”

“007. Q.” Tanner entered the room. He looked around and made a small frown.

Q shrugged. Why did they care about the decor?

“Your agents thought you would kill each other.” He added. “You were getting a bit loud. I could hear you two from the elevators.”

“Sorry,” Q replied. “Not really.” He muttered.

Tanner rolled his eyes. Bond didn’t react.

“Moving on,” Tanner said, clearing his throat. “Q, M want you to get the answers in by tomorrow morning at 0900 hours.”

“Fucking hell,” Q growled. Bond snorted quietly into his hand behind Tanner.

“Language, Q.” He said, for what seemed to be the millionth time since they had met.

“I’ll swear whenever I bloody want to.”

“Right, I need to be going.” Tanner said hastily. “Don’t kill one another. Goodbye.”

Tanner exited at a dignified but hurried pace. “See you.” Q said to his retreating back. The Chief of Staff raised his hand in acknowledgement.

The kettle whistled shrilly. Q made the tea and carried it out to the office. “Are you ever going to stop following me?”

“Perhaps if it stops annoying you.” Bond said. Q branch was typing frantically, looking at the screen. Afraid of being murdered by Bond, most likely, Q mused.

So he sat down at his computer, poured himself a cup of tea, and ignored Bond. He would get through the night with caffeine and sheer willpower.

Bond would probably help by pissing him off all night long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for read. Please comment? I will sell my soul for them, provided that there is a Castiel to save me from hell afterwards.
> 
> I love you all. Goodbye.


	6. Old Enemies and Partial Secretary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q figures out who the attacker was and who they were after. Bond sticks around, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this is really late.
> 
> Sorry, I was pretending to have a life.
> 
> Fun fact, I hate writing chapter titles.

Q was steadily crossing names off of his list of possible attackers. Some hours previous, it had been determined that it was, in fact, a targeted attack. They had yet to discover if Q, Tanner or Moneypenny were the ones that were meant to be killed. Q knew he was getting closer to the answers, though.

Q thought about what he already knew. A) The police said it was a gas leak, which was way overused, as directed by MI6, B) it was definitely a terrorist attack, C) Q Branch had figured out that the threat was definitely coming from somewhere in Europe and D) Bond was still in Q Branch being an arrogant bastard.

So, all in all, not much.

“C’mon, I’ve got to figure this out sooner or later.” Q muttered to himself. “All I wanted to do was go home. I hope my cat isn’t dead. Because I don’t need any charges on animal murder-.”

“Q, are you talking to yourself? Because that’s the first sign of madness, you know.” George commented.

Bond didn’t smirk, exactly. More like his mouth twitched in a way that Q knew mean he was internally laughing at him. Most of the time, Q wanted to punch him. This was one of those times. Sadly, he would probably be sent to the hospital if he did.

“Go back to your computer and get on with your damned work, George.” Q replied. George shrugged and moved on.

“You were talking to yourself, though, you know.” Bond said.

“Don’t care,” Q dragged out the last word.

“He’s right, you are on your way to being mad.”

“Don’t care,” he repeated in the same fashion.

Bond was staring at him, he could tell. He was about to reply when he suddenly discovered crossed off the second to last name on his list. Did that say what he thought it did? He squinted at the screen. Unfortunately, yes, it did say that. Which meant that the bomb could have only been for him.

“I found it. Oh, this is not good. Not good,” He said aloud. His minions all paused and looked at him. 

“Found it. It seems that our attackers were a one Mr. James Harrols.”

“And who is this Harrols? Is he after you three?” Bond asked.

“Ah. Well,” Q paused awkwardly. “Might I discuss this in private, 007?”

Bond raised an eyebrow, but headed towards the practically unused office that Q had. The minions simply weren’t high enough in clearance to know all the details.

(It had a door that closed automatically, and Q preferred to be able to speak to the minions while being seen. Therefore, unused.)

“Harrols is a man who has an... ongoing feud with me, you might say.” Q sat in the chair behind the desk and Bond took the one across from them.

“A feud?” Bond inquired. “Explain.”

“It was from before I was in MI6.” He began carefully. “I did some things that were... not so legal, you might say.”

“You, innocent little Q?” The other snorted. “Never.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you did, too, so be quiet.” He bit out. “Anyhow, Harrols hacked my computer. Naturally, I took offence. So I retaliated in the extreme. He had stolen some of my work, which was incredibly dangerous-,”

“Why were they dangerous?”

“I work in R&D, Bond. I develop weapons for MI6. I didn’t apply, they found me. Why do you think they were dangerous?” Bond rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like melodramatic. Q ignored him. “Anyhow, I basically destroyed his life. He’s been trying to get back at me since then.”

“And when was ‘then’?”

“Oh, about six years ago.”

“And you never told MI6?”

“Why would I? It was personal.”

“So that Harrols wouldn’t kill you, perhaps?”

“If I told MI6 about everyone that wanted to kill me, I’d have doubled the list of people to monitor. I do it myself.” Q found himself leaning more and more on the desk.

“Did a bang up job, didn’t you?”

“I swear to god, Bond, I’ll screw with your field equipment.” He dropped his head on his desk.

007 smirked at him because he knew the younger man obviously wouldn’t carry through on his threat. “Alright. It’s past two in the morning, so I think I deserve a break after being shot at today.”

“It was yesterday that you were being shot at.”

“But I haven’t been home yet.”

“Nor have I, but that doesn’t change the fact that it was yesterday you were being on a mission.”

“You’re just irritated that I can go home and you can’t.”

Q threw a pen at the agent just as the door shut behind him.

“I hate him.” He muttered, and blinked.

He heard a knock at the door.

“Ah, one minute,” He checked the clock as he straightened his sweater. According to his clock, it was now 2:31 AM. Had he really slept for a while? He could have sworn he only blinked. “Alright, come in, then.”

“I’m back.” Bond said.

“Why are you still here?”

“M wants to talk to you.”

“Thank you for answering the question.” He said as he walked out the door. “Right, why are all of you still here?”

The minions looked up. “I thought that at least some of you ought to be off shift right now.” He clarified.

“Er... We thought that we should still be working on the explosion situation?” Anna replied.

“If you’re meant to be off shift, then you’re off shift. I know who it is and who’s being targeted, so go back to work as normal.”

“Who are they after?” Carry, another worker asked.

“Me,” he said shortly. “Excuse me, I need to speak to M.”

He exited, Bond still following (honestly, didn’t he have anything better to do?) while everyone started to speak. The doors closed behind them, shutting out the noise. Q and Bond walked through the empty hallway. Well, nearly empty, Q thought as a woman in a business suit sleepwalked past them, files slipping out of a folder as she walked. Bond picked them up and handed them to her with a smile. Does he ever stopping flirting?

Up the elevator, swipe the ID, go through more security tests than he could remember and finally go though to M’s office. 

“M,” Bond said.

“Ma’am,” Q greeted.

“Sit,” M replied.

The conversation went something along the lines of Why didn’t you report to me immediately and For that matter why didn’t you tell us about Harrols and We will need to take precautions to make sure that you aren’t killed and You do know that this is really all your fault. There was probably more, but, honestly, it was like the time that he had changed all his head teacher files to say incredibly rude messages. Except his mother wasn’t there.

The sentiment was the same, however.

“Q, go wait outside. I want to speak to 007.” M ordered. He made himself move outside. Eve was back.

“I thought you’d have gone home by now.” He commented.

“Well, you know how it is. Lots for me to do.” She looked her usual crisp, clean, professional self, his perfect opposite. Q sat in one of the visitor’s chairs. “I hope you know that the paperwork I told you about earlier is still due back in five hours.”

“You must be joking.”

“No, I need it for 8:00 AM at the latest. It’s important.”

“What is it, even?” He sighed.

“It’s for Tanner’s staff census. I give all the higher-ups ones directly to him, so they don’t pass through too many other people who don’t need to come in contact with your more personal information.” She was still typing at a speed that was faster than some of his Branch workers.

“I... thought you were M’s secretary?”

“Among other things.”

“No one wants to answer me properly today.” The door opened and both Bond and M walked out. Q stood up.

“Q, you are evidently in danger of being killed.” M sent him a look that said And it’s all your fault. “Therefore, we will need to take precautions so that doesn’t happen. There would be no replacement for your position.”

“Thank you for making me remember how little value my life is to you.” It popped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“007 has been assigned to protect you until we can make better arrangements. We don’t have many spare people around the building at 3:00 in the morning. Dismissed.” M said.

As soon as they were out the door, Q started ranting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is late and wow did I ever misspell a lot of things when writing it. I hopefully fixed all the mistakes (doubt it).
> 
> Bondlock will probably have to wait for a bit later than I thought. Pardon.
> 
> Hey, did you know that if your friend convinces you to join stagecraft, it eats your life?
> 
> Also have a shameless self promotion: frenchpi.tumblr.com


	7. Interfering Bodyguard and Elder Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft can be (is always) incredibly patronizing, and it's rather difficult to deal with him with no proper sleep in ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day (chapter), another dollar (no dollar).
> 
> Just going to throw this out there:
> 
> Sorry.
> 
> My muse is a finicky thing. There one minute, then gone the next. In sight, but too far away to reach. Gone for months at a time, then returning briefly. I've given up on consistency on that front.
> 
> However here is a new chapter. Go crazy, children, and please give me feedback?
> 
> If you actually know who said the Another day another dollar thing, the props to you.

“Of all the people in MI6,” Q said poisonously, stabbing the button for the elevator. “She had to pick you.”

He was tired and pissed off and now his finger hurt from poking the button too hard, but he continued. “There must be tons of other agents here! And yet-,”

“I’m the best, that’s all. Besides, there’s hardly anyone else here, don’t be ridiculous. Not much to contend with. Besides, it’s just short term until they find someone else.”

“I don’t know why you even hang around Q Branch, anyway. You don’t even like me. I don’t even like you. This doesn’t make sense.” The elevator dinged merrily. Q decided to reprogram it later to a less irritating noise. They stepped in.

“Bothering you is fun.” Bond offered as an explanation.

“I think you need to rethink your hobbies.” Q huffed.

“I have hobbies,” Bond said.

“Such as what? Killing people?”

The agent made no reply as they exited the elevator.

“Well, that’s very reassuring.”He muttered as he strode into his branch.

He sighed and flopped into his chair. “Carry, how’s 003 doing?”

“She’s just checked in, says everything’s fine.”

“Where’s 003?” Bond asked.

“Uruguay,” Q answered.

“Paraguay,” Carry said at the same time.

“Or something.” Q added.

“Meaning Paraguay. San Lorenzo, actually.” Carry corrected.

“Whatever,” He spun his chair around. There was only Carry, Prim, Jessminda and Tom on shift right now. This was the skeleton crew. “How are you three doing?”

“Fine, Q.” Tom didn’t even look up from his screen.

“Same as ever,” Jess smiled at her boss.

“I’m doing rather well, Q. In fact, I’ve made far more progress than usual.” Prim said in a slightly smug tone.

Tom, Jess, and Carry all rolled their eyes in sync. Bond raised an eyebrow. Q simply said, “That’s good, Prim.”

Most of Q Branch called her Prig behind her back.

“Incoming call, sir.” Tom said.

“Put it up on the screen.”

Tom obliged, and suddenly the main screen had the face of Government Official Mycroft Holmes on it.

“Or you could not.” He suddenly regretted not checking who it was.

“Q,” He said, attempting to smile. It looked painful.

“Mr. Holmes. I didn’t know you could make an expression that wasn’t disapproving.” The clicking of keyboards stopped as his minions stared at him. The smile-grimace hybrid vanished. “Oh, there we go. Back to your usual.”

“Q, might I speak with you in private?” Mycroft asked.

“Of course, sir.” He muttered, moving towards his office. “Because I do anything and everything you ask, whenever you want. Honestly, you’re so demanding. Bond, seeing as you’d listen at the door, you might as well be part of it.”

“Q...” Mycroft started.

“I’m sorry, did you want something?” Mycroft went silent as Q glared at him.

Q shut the door behind Bond and switched the feed of Mycroft to the main screen of his computer.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“Oh, come now, Q, aren’t you going to introduce me to Mr. Bond?”

“We’ve met before, Mr, Holmes.” Bond replied.

“Ah, but that was under different circumstances. This is not like the other times.”

“Bond, my brother, Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft, James Bond. I just broke my confidentiality agreement. Happy?”

“Somehow, this doesn’t surprise me.” Bond declared.

“Mr. Bond won’t tell anyone, I’m sure.”

“Right,” Q turned to Bond. “You tell anyone, and I’ll screw up your next mission. In a way that wouldn’t end well for you.”

“Tell and you’ll kill me?”

“Indeed.” Q leaned back in his chair. It started to tip back a bit further than he had planned, but fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your view) Bond pushed it back onto all of its legs. Q sighed internally. This has not been my day. “So, Mycroft, what do you want?”

“I merely wanted to tell you that I was concerned about you, brother.”

“Thank you, your opinion has been noted. If that’s all then, good morning,” he said, about to turn off the screen.

“Q,” Mycroft scolded. “I am not done. You’re being worse than our dear brother right now.”

“You have another sibling?” Bond inquired.

“Evidently,” Q snapped. “Well, hurry up, then, Mycroft. I haven’t got all day.”

His elder brother smiled in a patronising way. “No, no, of course you haven’t. I also wanted to inform you that you are going to have to be more careful and that you shall have a bodyguard.”

“What?” Q exclaimed, jumping up. His chair was flung backwards and hit Bond, who grunted. Sadly, he didn’t have time to enjoy the fact that he had gotten one up on Bond; his brother was being an idiot again. “I hardly need a bodyguard. I am fine.”

“Hardly. You were almost killed-.”

“I wasn’t even injured!”

“-and that is cause to worry. Therefore, Mr. Bond will be assigned to protect you until the threat has been eliminated.”

“You have got to be joking, Mycroft.” Q said, aghast. “Anyone but!”

“Would you rather it be one of my agents living in your flat with you or someone you know?”

“In my flat?” he asked incredulously. He threw up his arms and narrowly missed Bond’s nose. “You can’t just send people to live with me!”

“It’s for you protection, Q.” Mycroft said sternly. “I’m leaving no room for debate.”

“Like hell this is happening,” Q grumbled.

“You should go home. Your sleep deprivation seems to be getting to you.”

“Bugger off, Mycroft. Now, goodbye. I’m busy.” He ended the call and turned to Bond. “If you’ve got anything to say, 007, now’s the perfect time to keep it to yourself.”

“You have another brother?”

“What did I just say? Keep it to yourself. And there will be no need to ‘protect me’ or follow me home.”

“Oh, but I can’t ignore orders from Mycroft Holmes, Q.” Bond said cheekily.

“You bastard,” Q said venomously.

“Contrary to popular belief, my parents were married when I was conceived.”

Q gave him a look and stomped into the main room.

“Not even waiting for your bodyguard? That’s dangerous.”

Q whirled around. “You,” he poked Bond in the chest. “Are not – my – bodyguard. I do not need one, nor do I want one. So go home to wherever it is you live, I shan’t be seeing you for a while, hopefully. Good morning.” He tried to turn back around to walk away, but the agent caught his arm and pulled him back.

“You are my charge. I need to protect you because that is my job. And will do my job, even if it means sedating and sitting on you.” Bond said.

“You seem to be enjoying this, Bond. And I can’t say I like that very much.” Q yanked his arm back and moved finish Eve’s paper work. He was aware of his (admittedly odd) branch giving both him and Bond curious looks.

By four in the morning, he had finished the form and emailed it to Eve. It had been approximately half an hour during which 003 had fallen off of a building onto some bins, Bond had paced around and spoken on the phone a few times, and he had drank ridiculous amounts of tea. Finally, he thought. I can get on with my other work.

“Bond, if it’s alright by you, I’m going into my office for a minute,” he announced sarcastically.

“Actually, it’s not.”

“What?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“Not even going to buy me dinner first?” he retorted.

“You’re only surviving on a dangerous amount of caffeine.”

“That’s not grounds for taking me home.” He protested.

“Getting a call from your brother is.”

Bond once again grabbed Q’s arm and dragged him out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. How was it? Good or half-decent or atrocious?
> 
> Did you notice any strange and discrete references to other fandoms that I unconsciously wrote and noticed while rereading?
> 
> Did you know that Mycroft was a bitch of a character to write?
> 
> Also: I had an offer from someone to beta this story, but then they vanished into the ether. Where did you go? Contact me on my blog if that was you or if you're interested in beta-ing of said person does not return (or if you just want to talk because it's summer and I'm bored and you might be too).


End file.
